


Teasing Flicker of the Flames

by Starting_Stroke_of_the_Pen



Category: The Greatest Showman (2017)
Genre: Barnum whump, M/M, P. T. Barnum Needs a Hug, Suggestion of PTSD, circus fire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-10-20 16:10:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20678189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starting_Stroke_of_the_Pen/pseuds/Starting_Stroke_of_the_Pen
Summary: PT Barnum was made for the stage.So the day he stumbles it takes both himself and Phillip off guard.--





	Teasing Flicker of the Flames

**Author's Note:**

> Whenever I join a new fandom I swear my immediate thought is "This needs more whump."

PT Barnum was made for the stage. 

Ever since he was a boy he had itched in his bones for his moment in the spotlight. To be the center of attention was the world to him, he craved it, needed it. Applause and cheering and love, unbridled joy for his very presence. Some might say it was uncouth, egotistic even. Others would admit to it being the main reason the Circus has done so well for itself.

No one would ever doubt Barnum, especially not the troupe. To them he was nearly inhuman. He never seemed to sit down, always on the move, always full of energy and excitement, a glint in his eye and a heart bursting with ideas. Even in the face of boos and criticisms the man could beam a smile great enough to blind any who opposed him. 

He was a powerful force to be reckoned with.

So when he one day stumbled, it took him entirely off guard. 

-

The performance had gone as usual or a Thursday night, rehearsals had gone smoothly other than a few misbehaving elephants. Sales were through the roof as always, and pre-show Barnum had been making his lap as he did every night. He’d check that everyone was in place, offering grins and winks and a confident motivational pat to everyone he passed. 

“It really does need to be bigger. I’m thinking if we opened up the front of the tent when it starts to get warmer we could do outside performances.” Barnum rambles to his young business partner who tries to keep up with him as he swaggers through the crowds of performers backstage trying to hurry into costumes and set up props. “We should build a deck on the harbor for the audience, charge extra for priority seating.”

“I think things are big enough as they are, three rings are already a stretch and we still get complaints from the public that the tent is an eyesore on the horizon. If we are going to expand, I’d seriously suggest finding another property for a second Circus rather than trying to inflate this one to unbearable sizes. I can’t even see from one side of the tent to the other without a pair of spectacles” Phillip replies hurriedly, brushing past the bearded lady and muttering a gentle apology, not that she seemed to notice in her rush anyway. “PT can you slow down.”

“Too many years with your nose in a book will do that to your eyes. I can see the whole tent just fine.” The ringmaster brushes him off almost teasingly as he continues rambling over his plans. He winks at a group of acrobats as they saunter past, barely registering them giggle amongst themselves in fluster, one covering her face like a smitten young girl despite being in her mid-twenties. 

Phillip could never understand how the older man had such a natural charisma that he could tip his hat at just about any lady or gent and they’d need to fight the urge to swoon. Worst of all it was a skill he didn’t even seem to notice he had. Either that or he did and the asshole was just smugly abusing the power, Phillip didn’t put that past him either. 

Checking his pocket watch as he swerved around a gaggle of clowns, Barnum flicked his head around to glance at Phillip momentarily. “Two minutes, I’m heading out. Make sure Charles knows he is up first, and grab a couple of apples from the store cupboard for the elephants to keep them in check. Keep an eye out for Heather, she nearly bit off O’Mally’s hand yesterday.” 

And with that he was gone at a pace towards center stage, no sense of doubt in his step. And Phillip, rolling his eyes, went to obediently do as he was told. 

-

It was shortly after the fourth act that it happened. Deng Yan and her assistant had just finished their breathtakingly terrifying knife routine and the stage had cleared as Barnum jogged forward and encouraged a second round of applause from the audience. They cheered louder than ever, he generally had that effect. 

“After that feat of death defying terror, surely you are all hoping for something mellow up next?” He calls out, voice lined with unbridled joy. The audience of course all began to scream and shout their no’s just as he was expecting. He chuckles madly and throw his arms out in presentation as the swarm of fire jugglers begin to enter the stage from all angles and take their positions. 

“Good, because this next performance is not for the feint of heart! Please give a warm welcome to our infamous daredevil trapeze artists and fire jugglers as they light up the stage!” He cries out eagerly, tossing his cane in the air and catching it with his opposite hand for effect as he gestures to one of their newer trapeze artists, Ginnie, as she sores overhead and lights the edge of the ring with a match. The fire spreads around the circle in almost an instant and earns a hysterical cheer from the audience. 

Barnum steps forward, this is the part where he is supposed to rile up the audience as the juggler’s weave in and out of the stands, but his eyes instead focus on the teasing flicker of the flames surrounding him, and suddenly, it’s all gone. 

It’s the audience he notices first, they’re hazy to his eyes and soundless even as he watches their mouths open to cheer. The glow of the fire feels too hot against his face like it is much closer than it is, and despite there being next to no smoke, his lungs itch with the need to expel soot. 

“Barnum?” Someone mutters, it’s more a prompt than a question. He can’t quite make out who it is because his eyes remain fixed on the fire. 

His body feels numb, his head feels numb, like he is neither alive nor dead. 

The audience aren’t there anymore, its only smoke. His eyes burn with it and his ears ring with the loud roar of the fire. It’s hard to breath and his lungs protest as he refuses to suck in the tainted air.  
His livelihood is gone, his family is gone, his home, his friends, and Phillip…Phillip is…

His hands feel clammy with sweat and his head too light. He needs to find him, but it’s so dark and so hot. His throat protests his voice, tightening by the second with restricted air until he finally manages to shout at the top of his voice.

“PHILLIP”

-

When a pair of hands suddenly grabs his arms and gives him a shake, the smoke seems to clear almost immediately. It’s the scent of the younger man’s cologne that registers before he can make out his face. 

“PT. PT. Phin. Hey. Hey. Easy.”

Barnum swallows dryly, pressing his eyes shut tightly for a moment and forcing down the bile rising in his throat.

The audience are cheering again as the jugglers toss flaming skittles in the air which are caught by the trapeze artists. Phil is standing before him, hands braces steadily on his forearms as he stares into his eyes like a deer in headlights. 

“Christ, are you okay? You’ve been standing centre ring in silence for nearly half the performance, O’Malley thought you were having a stroke. Do you need a doctor?”

“No. I-“ Barnum mumbles, brain still fuzzy and taking a moment to register all this. His heart is thudding too fast and an unpleasant wave of cold sickness has washed over him. Fumbling, he pushes his cane into Phillip’s hands. “I need a minute, cover for me.”

And with that he turns and makes for the exit at just shy of a jog. 

-

Barnum finds himself in his office, braced with both his hands on his desk staring at a half empty glass of whisky. 

His mind is finally quiet as he listens to the faded sound of the show drifting through the walls. The fire act ends, music changing tone. He hears Phillip introduce the next act, the elephant parade, with perfect clarity and excitement. The audience cheer for him and he can’t help but feel a swell of warmth bloom in his stomach in pride for his partner.

Footsteps follow moments afterwards and then a knock. Phillip enters without waiting for an answer and closes the door softly behind him, pausing in the doorway to take in the well built shape of the man shadowed by the light of the office window. 

“PT, what happened?”

With a heaving sigh, Barnum picks up the glass and downs the rest of his bitter whisky, eyes remaining closed for a few moments even after swallowing. He puts the glass down firmly before turning to face the younger man, still slick with sweat from running around in his performance. Pulling off his own top hat he leans his hips back against the desk, eyes settling on the door behind Phillip rather than the man himself, disliking that concerned look he was giving him.

“I don’t know. I froze up. I never freezes up.”

The answer comes out more raw and honest than even he is expecting, though Phillip doesn’t seem phased and instead paces over slowly to lean against his own desk. 

“Stage fright maybe? Not much like you.”

It earns a snort from Barnum, who pushes his sweaty hair back with the palm of his hand to stop it falling in his face without the support of his hat.

“Just memories,” He mutters dismissively, blowing out a long breath through his teeth, “Just memories.” 

He doesn’t need to say more than that. He can see in Phillip’s eyes that the other man understands without the word fire even being said. 

They are silent between them after that for a good while. The tinny sound of circus music echoing down the halls behind them. Phillip wordlessly slips over to lean against Barnum’s desk next to the older man, quietly resting his head against his broad shoulder. 

“I’m fine now, you know. All because of you.” Phillip murmurs, breaking the silence when the time feels right.

“I know.” Barnum mutters back. For a man usually bursting with words at all hours of the day, he suddenly seems lost for them. His caramel eyes thoughtful and deep as he stares at the opposite wall along side his partner. 

Phillip doesn’t push him, merely pulls one leg up to cross over the other and removes his own hat. “You feeling okay?” 

“Thought I was going to puke for a minute out there, but I’m fine now. Sorry, didn’t mean to leave you with the performance so suddenly.” Barnum grumbles, scratching at his four o’clock shadow and finally sparing a glance at the younger. “I can go back and finish up when the elephants finish, just needed to step out for a moment.”

It’s Phillip’s turn to snort this time and he leans further back against the desk, raising an eyebrow at his partner with the twitch of a grin. “I have no doubt in my mind that even if you did puke in the ring, you’d somehow turn it into part of the act and send the audience wild.” He says teasingly. “And what’s with this apologising? Are you sure you don’t need a doctor?”

Barnum raises one eyebrow in lack of amusement and moves a hand to gently flick Phillip between the eyes. “I’m serious. I gave you my word I wouldn’t run out on you again like I did with Jenny. The Circus is my biggest focus now, I won’t let anything distract me from it. I won’t leave you again.”

The seriousness in his tone seems to stall Phillip before he can reply and the younger pauses for a moment to consider his words. “There’s a difference between leaving me with your entire business to run off with some new and sparkly interest, and leaving me to run a performance because you need a breather. I mean that’s what you pay me for, to step in sometimes.”

“Phil,” Barnum mutters under his breath, seemingly ignoring the other’s words, eyes suddenly sunken and cold. “If I hadn’t come back when I did, you’d be dead.”

The words have an icy truth to them and it washes cold over Phillip’s lungs as his breath catches just slightly. 

They’re silent again. It doesn’t last as long this time but feels as if it goes on forever.

“But you did. And I’m not. And it won’t happen again.” Phillip says quietly, “The fire is over. The circus is back on track. The present is here now, so let go of the memories. You’ve learned from them and it’s time to move on.”

It earns him another flick in the head. 

“Stop spouting wise things or I’ll drop you back off on the doorstep of the theater.” Barnum teases softly, voice only a quiet whisper of his usual bravado. Something about his face felt so vulnerable at this moment, all the glitter and showmanship removed.

Phillip watches carefully, silently taking in the tired creases around the showman’s eyes and the almost ashamed hunch in his posture against the desk. He is tired, he is lost, the fire took more out of him than he admits to and frightens him more than he can voice. Phillip understands.

He braces a hand playfully against Barnum’s forearm for a moment before standing. 

“Stuff doesn’t go away overnight, trust me I should know. I’ve spent too many years drinking too many shots to try to make things fade faster, but pain sometimes sticks until you give yourself time to recover.” He says gently, cracking a smile for his friend. “Just take it easy. Don’t beat yourself up over old wounds, and take a breather when you need one.”

Phillip moves towards the door, pushing his hat back onto his head and pausing in the doorway to spare one last friendly look back at Barnum. “You’ve held this place up on your shoulders for so long, let us help now, it’ll save your back someday.”

"I love you."

The door closes with a click, and quiet once again fills the room.

Leaving Barnum to crumble against his desk in silence, left to his own mind and the quiet sound of jingling circus music below.


End file.
